Coward
by ChoCedric
Summary: Ron arrives at Shell Cottage angry and upset after leaving Harry and Hermione behind. He feels like a traitor, a coward, for deserting his friends just because the going got tough. Will a conversation with his older brother Bill make him feel better?


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: I wasn't originally going to do this, but I was so happy with the reviews I got for my story "No Hero," which detailed the thoughts and feelings of Ron as he walked out on Harry and Hermione in DH. For this reason, and because the reviewers requested that I write more about him, I'm writing a few more stories about our beloved youngest Weasley. There will be this one, followed by "Facing Demons," followed by "Forgiveness." I hope you enjoy them!

Please review!

Coward

By: ChoCedric

As Ron Apparated to Bill and Fleur's cottage, with his fingers aching like crazy from when he'd splinched himself, he felt truly terrible. Now that he'd taken the locket off, and after his little confrontation with the Snatchers, it began to sink in just what he'd done. In a fit of rage, he'd left his two best friends behind to possibly be killed.

He'd give anything to find his way back to them, but all hope was gone. When he'd gotten to the riverbank where they had last been, they had already left. Well, he thought bitterly, they didn't need him, did they? He couldn't help but feel a new wave of anger as he thought that the two of them might be in love. But another, niggling part of his conscience said, shouldn't you be happy for them if they are? After all, Hermione doesn't deserve a traitor like you, a coward who walks out on his friends when the going gets tough.

Ron raised his fist to knock on the door. He heard footsteps from inside the house, and then his brother Bill called, "Who is it?"

"It's Ron!" shouted the boy in question. "Please let me in!"

"Ron?" asked Bill, sounding suspicious. "It can't be Ron."

"Bill, just open up!" Ron pleaded. "It is me!"

"No," said Bill. "Not until I ask you a question. What was the flavor of the Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean you spat out at your fifth birthday party?"

"A booger-flavored one," said Ron at once. He understood immediately what Bill was doing; it was a security check.

The door was flung open, and Bill stood in the doorway, looking shocked. He looked even more surprised when he saw how shaken and miserable Ron looked. "Merlin," he cried. "What on Earth's the matter?"

"Long story," Ron mumbled dejectedly.

"Okay, tell me later. Just come in," Bill urged. "I'm sure Fleur will make you a cup of hot cocoa."

Ron felt a surge of gratitude, but another surge of self-hatred. He was going to have hot cocoa while his two best friends suffered in the cold with very little to eat and drink. All the vicious words he'd used in their confrontation earlier came back to haunt him. He now realized that he'd taken the Burrow, his family, his mother's cooking, safety, and comfort for granted.

Ron walked into the kitchen, where Fleur, also looking taken aback to see him, greeted him kindly. She immediately made him hot chocolate, and Ron sat down at the table, resting his head in his hands. Fleur tried to ask him questions about where he'd been, to which Ron just gave one-word answers. Finally, she gave up, and the three of them just sat in silence.

A few minutes later, Fleur announced she was tired and was going to bed. "I'll be there in a minute, Fleur," said Bill, kissing his wife tenderly. "But Ron and I need to talk first. Come on, Ron, let's go to the living room."

"Good night, Ron," said Fleur kindly. "I vill see you later, Bill."

Ron, looking utterly uncomfortable, walked into the living room with Bill. The older man beckoned for him to sit on the couch, which Ron reluctantly did.

"Right then," said Bill in a businesslike tone. "I know Dumbledore told you to not talk about your mission, but I know that you, Harry, and Hermione have been away. Has something happened to them?"

"No," muttered Ron.

"Where are they, then?" Bill demanded.

Ron swallowed, his face going red. Not being able to look his brother in the eye while awaiting his harsh judgment, he said quietly, "I left them."

"You what?" said Bill, stunned. "You left them in the middle of God-knows-where, where anything could happen to them?"

"Look, we had a row," said Ron, his self-esteem plummeting down another notch.

"So you decided to leave them just because you fought? Ron, you complete and utter prat!" Bill said harshly. Ron looked down to the floor, feeling truly awful. "I know, I know, you don't need to berate me," said Ron grumpily. "I know I'm an idiot. It's just that ..." He looked helplessly at his brother, and there was such vulnerability in his eyes that his older brother seemed to soften.

"Look, Ron," he said softly. "I've known you all your life, and many people call me perceptive. You can try to hide how you feel from me, but I know you too well."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, feeling aggravated and exposed.

"You're worried that you aren't good enough, is that right?" asked Bill, putting a hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron said nothing; he continued to gaze at the floor. "Ron," said Bill, "it doesn't do any good to bottle up how you feel."

"What would you know?" Ron blustered. "You know nothing about how I feel. You've always been loved by Mum and Dad, they don't treat you like you're inadequate, you've got Fleur who loves you, and I'm not going to have anybody!"

"Ron," said Bill quietly. "I don't know where on Earth you get the notion that Mum and Dad don't love you as much as they do me. They adore you."

"Bullshit," Ron fumed. "They wish I was the girl they wanted."

"That's not true, and you know it!" Bill exclaimed. "But that's the reason why you left Harry and Hermione, isn't it?"

Ron, feeling defeated, nodded in assent.

"Listen," Bill coaxed, "you've got to understand. Harry and Hermione wouldn't be friends with you if ..."

"They're friends with me out of pity," Ron interrupted. "I'm just the lowly sidekick."

"They are not," Bill said firmly. "I've observed the way you three communicate, and it's obvious they care about you. You need to work through these feelings of inferiority, little brother."

"But how do I?" asked Ron ashamedly. "I want to return to them, but I don't know where they are! They'd disappeared from where they were when I tried to get back!"

"Fleur and I will let you stay here for the time being," said Bill soothingly. "And I'll do everything I can to help you get back to them."

"You will?" asked Ron hopefully, tears filling his eyes. He rapidly blinked them away; he didn't want to blubber like a fool in front of his older brother. He thought he'd lose credibility if he did.

"Of course I will," Bill replied. "I know it'll take time for you to believe it, but I'm going to tell you over and over again, Ron, that you're a wonderful person. Don't ever doubt that."

"Thanks," Ron mumbled, flushing. "Listen, can I go to bed?"

"You may," said Bill at once. "I'll show you to the spare bedroom."

As Ron got into bed that night and laid his head upon the pillow, he finally let the pent-up tears fall. He appreciated the words of his brother, but still felt horribly inadequate. But this was not about him anymore; this was about his two best friends, Harry and Hermione. As he lay in the dark and cried, he made a silent vow to himself that even if it came to his death, he'd find a way to return to them. He hoped that they'd forgive him, and let him back into their lives, and that he could redeem himself in their eyes, and not be a coward anymore.


End file.
